


Green Nightie

by yesterday2111



Category: Hercai (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Married Sex, SoftMiran, Soulmates, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23572549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesterday2111/pseuds/yesterday2111
Summary: A night at the hotel turns into... more than that.
Relationships: Reyyan Aslanbey/Miran Aslanbey
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to leave this as a one shot but got some feedback that gave me a bit of inspiration! There will be one more chapter! enjoy! Any feedback is greatly appreciated :)

In all his life, Miran could not have imagined that such a simple thing as seeing his wife lay on his bed with a smile could change him so deeply. 

The view of Reyyan in his— their — bed was the most beautiful thing he could have imagined. His heart exploded with the the devotion and need he could never adequately express in words.

On that day, as he told Reyyan he loved her, kissed her hand and pulled her to rest on his shoulder, he told himself that as long as he felt her near him, as long as he could kiss her forehead, trail his finger over her eyelashes, and wake up to her eyes on his, he could die happy. If it was what she needed, just having her in the same room would be enough. 

And yet. There was a caveman part of Miran, a part that wanted more, that desperately wanted her, that needed to be united in every way with the love of his life… Levelheaded Miran worked hard to contain this side of him, knowing that a wrong step on his part could cause Reyyan to pull back forever, could unravel the immense progress they had made so slowly.

Miran recognized that for Reyyan the memory of their night together, her first experience ever, was difficult to overcome. It was loaded with the trauma and anger and fear of the morning after, with the stigma she had been raised with and with the embarrassment of her inexperience. Above all he needed her happy and safe. If he again caused her pain or fear because he couldn’t control himself or pushed her boundaries too much, it would just bury him alive. 

But Miran knew that his wife wanted intimacy and closeness too. She was working hard to meet him in the middle, although she wasn’t ready for everything. So he took steps slowly with her. An extended kiss, an innuendo, a pull of her hips towards him— he came close to her but never pushed, always searching her face for hesitation or discomfort and moving back the second she made any indication as such. Slowly, they made progress. 

Along the way, he took a lot of cold showers. And did so happily. He never knew he could love someone so much.

… 

This specific day had been difficult for both of them. Reyyan had gone to the Sadoglu konak to visit Gül, the first time after learning about her adoption. This only ended in another nasty encounter with Yaren and an emotional talk with Hazar. While she was away, Miran had struggled all morning with the messes that his grandmother was creating in the business. He spent the day arguing with shareholders on the phone while trying to reconcile his new understanding of his ruthless grandmother with the childhood need to please her. 

Reyyan called him in the evening to ask him to pick her up. He heard a trace of tears in her voice and felt a pang of panic, as he always did when she was anywhere near her disgusting grandfather and poisonous relatives without him. 

“Ne oldu, Reyyan, what happened? Iyi misin?” Miran was already out the door and reaching his car.

“I’m okay,” she confirmed, her voice turning quiet and shy. “Just… need a hug.” 

Miran couldn’t control the smile that spread on his face. “That is something your husband can always happily deliver.”  
And deliver he did. The second he arrived he swept her up in a crushing embrace, the feeling of her head on his shoulder doing just as much to ease the grievances of his morning as hers. There was something different between them since he officially gave up his revenge. Reyyan sought contact and comfort from him wholeheartedly, unabashedly, with no external barriers or misunderstandings left to separate them physically or emotionally. He felt more at ease than he ever had his entire life, weightless, even though there was chaos all around them. 

She pulled away, put her hands on his shoulders to look at him. “How was your morning?” 

“Frustrating. Babaanne is still trying to make things hard.” He looked down at her earnest face and smiled. “I don’t really have the energy to deal with Sultan or Gonul or Firat at the moment. What do you say we go to the hotel?” 

“Tamam,” Reyyan smiled at him sweetly. At her agreement, they headed there, and he called to ask for an overnight bag to be brought to them from the Aslanbey konak. 

…

When a guard knocked on the hotel door with the bag in his hands, Miran took no time to unpack it on the bed so they could change into comfortable clothes as soon as possible. While he checked that nothing was missing, Reyyan ordered them some food from the room service. With a pang of heat he realized that whomever had packed the bag had included one of the lingerie nighties that he had brought for Reyyan on their Istanbul trip. He wanted to see her in the green lace very badly… very badly… but worried slightly that she would perceive it as presumptuous. He must have had a strange look on his face, because Reyyan came to his side with a hand on his face. 

“Miran?” She caught his eyes before noticing the green nightie and blushed violently, her teeth biting her bottom lip. Quick to make sure she didn’t pull away from him, Miran put the lace aside and gave her a cheeky grin as he handed her the normal pajamas. 

“Go ahead and shower,” he said, turning to press his lips to the hand on his shoulder. “The food will get here by the time you come out.” Reyyan looked at him thoughtfully for a second, before leaning in to leave a lingering kiss on his cheek and hurrying to the shower. Miran was left to try to calm his dirty thoughts. 

Reyyan emerged from the shower with freshly dried hair and in a white t-shirt and black shorts that accentuated just how tiny she was. Sunshine seemed to glow off of her, from inside her. Miran ran his eyes over her legs, her full lips and the cherubic smile she directed at him. The caveman inside beat on his chest.

She was heaven personified.

Miran was clearly too obvious with his awe and hunger, because his wife, who was trying to write out a text, admonished him. “Miran! Bakma…I can’t focus when you look at me like that.” Her dimples spurred him and he slid off the bed to come to her. This time, he couldn’t help it. 

As she busied herself, Miran grabbed her hips from behind and pulled her close to him, threading his hands around her arms to clasp around her waist. Reyyan was deliciously trapped in his arms, but it wasn’t a trap she was looking to escape. He spun her around slowly to face him. 

“Every time I see you,” he said quietly, tracing the length of her nose with his. “I know I am the luckiest man in the world. The luckiest person in the world.” 

Her eyes glistened. Softly, she laid her hands on his chest, her fingers roaming a little and sending electric shocks over his entire body. When he bent in and pressed a hungry kiss to her lips, she responded in equal. 

“Ben de, Miran. Me too.” 

Something came over Miran. He wasn’t sure whether it was the lingerie, or seeing his wife emerge from the shower looking so angelic, but he sensed that he could get closer tonight, that she wanted to feel it too. 

He ventured with his tongue to press against her lips cautiously, waiting for a sign of hesitation on her end. The sign didn’t come, and she opened her mouth to invite it in, the kiss becoming more desperate as their tongues tangled. Her breathing turned heavy, and with every inhale he felt her chest rub on his as he held her closer and closer. Suddenly, she pulled away, chest heaving. Their kiss was so intense that they were left panting and with wetted lips. Miran struggled to control himself from pulling her back to him, knowing that if she needed to stop he would oblige. 

But she didn’t say stop, she just stared at him, mouth hanging a little bit open. There was a look in her eyes he hadn’t seen since their kiss on the bridge, a look of hope and love and desperation and want— 

“Miran…” Reyyan was breathless.

“Sevgilim?” His voice was hoarse with barely checked need.

Instead of answering with words, she extended two small hands to reach for the top button of his black shirt. His breath caught as her fingers made quick work of the buttons, before she grabbed the collar and pushed it off. Her hands hovered above his bare shoulders, large brown eyes meeting green ones almost shaking with desire. Miran held his breath, letting her take her time with whatever she was looking to explore. She caught him off guard, however—placing her hands on his pectorals, she brought her face slowly, slowly towards his chest. A jolt of heat shot directly to his arousal and almost stopped his heart when she brushed her lips faintly across the faint bullet wound scar and then pressed them in two soft kisses above it. He couldn’t hold in the faint growl that left his throat at the sensation, at the view. “Reyyan….” 

Looking straight at his eyes, she smiled shyly but clearly, giving him her answer. 

The caveman burst out of the cage where Miran had kept him for so long. He grabbed her chin to bring her mouth back up to his forcefully. She didn’t pull away. Advancing, he backed her up until her shoulders hit the wall and his arms trapped her. She was surrounded from all sides, but she didn’t hesitate. The intensity of her kisses matched his exactly, and she tangled her hands in his hair to pull him closer. Nearly lightheaded from excitement and love, Miran grabbed Reyyan’s waist to anchor himself to her, taking the opportunity to take hold of the edge of the t-shirt. He looked to her for permission, and she nodded, looking only into his eyes. Trying to convey all the love he had for her, he pulled it up slowly, her hands on top of his guiding the shirt over her head. She looked hesitant for just a moment. Then, quickly as though she decided to do it before she changed her mind, she hooked her thumbs into the band of her shorts and discarded of them as well. She was left only in her simple black bra and and modestly styled grey underwear. 

Miran couldn’t breath. Watching her strip them both was the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his life. He knew he did not deserve such perfection and yet drank her in with his eyes, excited to the point of delicious discomfort. She was his. Only his.

Now that she was so exposed in front of her husband, the shyness returned to Reyyan. She averted her eyes a little and her round cheeks reddened deeply. He stepped closer with his hands on her waist, pushing her even further against the wall. Lavished soft kisses on her shoulder, her neck, her clavicle, her chin, her nose. He relished the feeling of her skin on his. For a moment he just held her to him, wanting her to be comfortable.

“You will tell me if you need to stop?” It was phrased as one question but held multitudes inside it. Are you sure? Is this what you want? Am I going too far?

Reyyan angled her head to look at him. “I’ll tell you.” It was an answer to all of them. 

With that, his restraint broke. Miran lifted Reyyan up bridal style with a growl. Her surprised squeak only fueled the burning in his veins. He settled her on the bed as if she would shatter upon impact, and settled between her knees, leaving a lingering kiss above her bellybutton before straightening up and waiting for her direction. Her cheeks were flushed, chest heaving. A halo of curls spread over the pillow. 

Reyyan propped herself up on her elbows, and then reached over and began to unbuckle his belt. His arousal was clear, straining his trousers in anticipation. She made quick work of the belt, and pulled the trousers slowly down his thighs, but he could tell by her look that the briefs were a step too far for her at the moment. As much as he needed them off, he forced self control and settled over her again. Their lips met again, fiery, needy, devotedly. Every kiss was a promise. 

Leaning over, Miran reached behind her back to unhook the bra. She arched to give him easy access. The view of her breasts exposed to him and bouncing with every shuddering breath she took…ahh. He almost exploded right there and then. Miran pulled a nipple into his mouth with a flick of his tongue. Clearly this was a right move, because the whine that escaped Reyyan he had never heard before. Wanting to feel every part of her, he switched to the other nipple with intensity.

“Miran…” she whispered, eyes closed. Miran buried his head in her hair, took a big inhale of the heavenly scent he could never get enough of. His arms strained from the effort of holding himself above her. 

“What do you need?” He rumbled in her ear.

She took a shuddering breath. There was anticipation and the slightest hint of fear in her eyes. “I want to feel close to you.” 

He smiled wolfishly. Yes. He wanted this to be memorable, to trump the fear of her last experience. Their first time had been fairly short and clumsy, albeit sweet and passionate, and he wanted this to be better for her in every way. Barely able to check himself he trailed his mouth down her body until he reached her legs. Openmouthed kisses were laid into the softness of her inner thighs, and the gasp of pleasure she made had him straining in his briefs even more. He hooked his fingers into the top of her underwear and slid them down. She lifted her legs to allow him to throw them off into the aether. 

She was trembling.

Slowly, he brought his mouth towards her and kissed her most sensitive spot. Reyyan let out an uncontrollable cry of his name. It broke his resolve. Throwing his briefs away, he stretched out again and settled over her. Their lips met. Her face was masked with hazy lust. There were no barriers between them. His arousal settled naturally at her entrance, as if his hips had a mind of their own. 

“Seni çok seviyorum…” He groaned into her lips.

Her fingers found purchase in his hair.

Slowly, with all the love and intention in the world, he entered, nearly blacking out from the sensation he had waited so long to feel again. Her eyes were closed, mouth slightly open, and he made an experimental move with his hips. Then another, and again, until they had found the right pace, speeding up, moving against each other without a conscious thought. With every thrust Reyyan whimpered softly from the back of her throat— Miran was unsure if she was even aware of it but each one jolted him even further with electricity. 

As they advanced at a quickening pace, Reyyan’s breath quickened, whimpers became louder, hands tightened on his hair. She arched her back slightly, and Miran could barely hold on any longer, moving one, two, three more times as deeply as he could. 

With one final grunt the strength left his arms and he collapsed onto her, every inch of him touching every inch of her. They reached their peak in paradisal synchronicity, crying out each other’s names loudly, holding onto each other like lifelines. 

They became one. 

…

When he regained the ability to think and breath, Miran rolled off of his wife with a chaste kiss. He grabbed her water and a towel and one of his white t-shirts for her to sleep in. When they were done cleaning up with some shy giggles, he settled next to her in bed and she scooted closer to rest her head on his shoulder and wrap her arm around his chest. His snaked around her waist and pulled her so close she was nearly on top of him. The caveman was pleased; she was his. Reyyan made no complaints, only a soft satisfied sigh. Her cheeks were still flushed, and he could hear her elevated heartbeat through his shirt. 

Needing to check, to make sure, he leaned back to examine her face. “Are you alright, meleğim?”

She didn’t speak, but he understood everything from the loving sparkle of her eyes. I love you, I need you, don’t leave me. He answered in kind. I love you, I need you, I’m never going anywhere. 

Nodding, she leaned over, left a sweet kiss on corner of his mouth, and settled back into his shoulder. Her sleep came quickly; she was spent. To see her asleep so peacefully on his chest, to see her head rising and falling along with his breath, filled Miran’s eyes with tears of joy. This was happiness. This was love. This was trust and forgiveness and surrender and peace. 

He didn’t know how he would ever let her leave their bed and put on anything else but his tshirt. 

…

Miran awoke from slumber expecting it to be a dream. He was relieved to find that he was still enveloped in her scent and with their clothes still scattered around the room.

Reyyan had shifted in her sleep, still peaceful, bent slightly so that her head lay on his stomach like she had at Master Gabriel’s house, curls spilling along her shoulders and his body. Their legs had tangled in the night. One of her small hands grasped Miran’s tshirt tightly above his chest like she was trying to keep him in place. He smiled with sad understanding. It would take more for her to forget, but he would work towards that for the rest of his existence. His fingers stroked her head. 

He never knew he could love someone so much.

“Ahh, Reyyan Hanim,” he whispered. “I will never leave you. Not for anything, güneşim.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight hit her eyelids, gently easing Reyyan out of the most peaceful dreamless sleep she had ever had in her life. Not wanting for it to end, she kept her eyes closed, enjoying the warmth around her though she hadn’t quite processed where she was yet.

Trickles of the night before flashed into her consciousness. When she finally got her bearings and her memory back she felt a millisecond of pure panic and was about to raise her head and frantically search for Miran when the mattress beneath her head shifted up and down rhythmically. Opening her eyes finally, she realized it was not a mattress, but in fact the muscles of a very familiar stomach.

 _He’s here._ She thought, and let out a silent sigh of relief she didn’t know was trapped inside her. Tilting her head, she looked up at her husband. She wasn’t surprised in the least to meet his green eyes immediately— he had been staring at her in her sleep again.

“Günaydın,” She whispered shyly, relaxed.

“Günaydın.” Miran’s smile was hungry and toothy, reminiscent of the last night. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” she said breathlessly. After a beat, “You?”

Miran stretched his arms out. “I happen to be on top of the world.”

“And why is that, my comedian husband?”

“Oh, you know why, güzelim.” He growled into her ear. It sent a shiver up her spine even though they were joking around.

“I can guess,” she smiled innocently. She traced his abdomen with one finger for a few moments. They lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

His voice was soft when he spoke again. “I’ll go get us some breakfast—”

“Hayir!” Reyyan hadn’t planned to say that but something panicked and instinctive ripped it out of her throat. She trusted him implicitly yet…she didn’t want him to leave. She realized then how tightly her hand was wrapped around his t-shirt, so much so that her knuckles paled. Embarrassed at her outburst she untangled her fingers from the fabric and stretched them out, refusing to look at him.

“Tamam, tamam, tamam,” Miran murmured understandingly, latched onto her waist and pulled her up so she was settled in between his legs, back resting on his chest and curls tucked underneath his chin. His arms wrapped around her tightly. The pressure was immensely comforting.

But…

She disliked the fact that she felt the need to say it, anticipated the pained expression on his face. She already knew what answer he was going to give her, and she already knew it was the absolute truth. But she really needed to say it, for her own sanity.

“Gitme, Miran.” As truly happy as she was, she couldn’t help that her voice broke. It was phrased as a statement, as a demand, but they both knew it was really a question. It wasn’t about breakfast. It was a forever question that demanded a forever answer. _Don’t go. Don’t leave._

“Asla.” His voice rumbled assertively in her ear, and it was clear that he had been expecting that question before she even thought to ask it. He answered like he had that night at the cabin when he apologized to her. She knew he meant it with every fiber of his being. “Never, Reyyan. I have nowhere to go but to you.”

…

Looking at herself in the mirror, at her disheveled hair and swollen lips, Reyyan couldn’t quite grasp what had happened last night. She didn’t look different— she had almost expected to see someone else looking back at her. But it was just her, just Reyyan, though a Reyyan with very pink cheeks.

She splashed water on her face.

Reyyan had been with Miran for long enough to know that his force was always there, simmering under the surface. With every lingering touch and burning look she saw it flare behind his eyes. If she was being honest with herself, his pure intensity had truly frightened her a little bit at the beginning of their real relationship. As her comfort increased and she realized that Miran would never hurt her in that way, her fear dwindled to extreme shyness. How much he wanted her was reflected in his eyes, in his strokes of her hair, in the movements of his large hands against her waist that sent all reasonable thoughts racing out of her brain. She wanted him too. She just didn’t know how to reciprocate it, didn’t want to force herself to go too far.

She realized now just how much he had been controlling himself on their fake wedding night in the hut. That night had been sweet and passionate and careful. Even with her complete lack of experience, she could tell then that he knew what he was doing, that he wanted her to enjoy it and was holding himself back. This night there was nothing unspoken between them, and his wanton movements reflected their newfound ease, their unrestrained love.

Yet in the back of her head, she worried about the type of beast she had unleashed.

She knew very well that Miran was a relentless man. Last night had been mind-shattering and physically overwhelming in the best way possible, but she could tell even then he had been restraining himself to the best of his ability to make her comfortable. She was grateful, but now that she had loosened the barriers between them a little, would his complete force break through? She wasn’t worried about him hurting her, she trusted him to the ends of the Earth in that way, but her heart rate increased anyway.

Last night was… her vocabulary lacked the terms to describe what she’d instigated. She didn’t know what had come over her. Sometimes the extent of the progress she had made with Miran caught her off guard. Just a few months ago the thought of sleeping beside him in bed sent earthquakes of anxiety shaking through her and the smallest kiss on the cheek caused it to blush uncontrollably. But yesterday when she was upset, she’d wanted nothing more but to feel safe and relaxed with his arms around her.

That was all.

Then she’d seen the look on his face when holding the green nightie, saw how much he schooled himself to make her feel comfortable, and something fluttered inside her. For the first time since their real marriage, the thought of going further hadn’t been accompanied by upsetting memories or fear— as she’d stepped in to take a shower she’d felt an excitement to feel him, to open up completely to him. Something she thought she had burned along with the hut was instead rekindled inside herself.

Reyyan rarely acted on her basic impulses, but she was very glad to have made an exception last night. She’d never felt so in love before, so close to another person in her life. They had both bared their bodies and souls to each other. There was nothing left unsaid between them, nothing left unforgiven, and nowhere to go but each other.

After the fact, Miran’s obvious and unrestrained elation brought her bashfulness to the surface again. But she couldn’t say that she regretted a thing. She felt weightless, like the very last burden of everything she’d experienced shifted off of her.

“I found a nice place to eat breakfast within a block of us. Tamam, birtanem?” Miran shouted through the door. The pet name sounded so natural for him to say. Miran’s comfort with terms of endearment for her had skyrocketed in the past few months, and as much as she wanted to reciprocate, the words got stuck in her throat every time she tried.

 _Sevgilim_. Too intense. _Canim_. Not intense enough. _Hayatim_. Eh. _Meleğim?_ That would just make him laugh. She’d called him _kocacim_ once but it had felt too clumsy on her tongue for her to try again. A thought came to her mind.

“Miranim.” She rolled it over her tongue out softly, so he wouldn’t hear her. _My Miran_. _Only mine._ “Miranim.” She was determined to try it out at some point.

She examined herself one last time in the mirror. Her form-fitting blue blouse with a scoop neck and one button loose at the top was tucked into a modest, flowing dark grey skirt. A slit in the fabric revealed one leg and the slouchy boots Miran had bought her. The heels were almost nonexistent— she thought sometimes that he loved to take advantage of their height difference, though he would never admit it.

She felt good, but if she was honest, she just wanted to stay in their hotel room, in their bubble, forget that anything existed outside of the two of them. The moment they left she knew that the Aslanbeys and Sadoglus would find a way to threaten, hurt, kidnap, or something else that would ruin it.

An idea emerged that would have usually scandalized her, but this was a new Reyyan, and she made up her mind quickly. Breakfast could wait. _If you don’t do this now, it’ll take you forever to gather up the courage. Hadi, Reyyan, hadi_.

Miran liked her hair down, so she took it out of the bun and raked her fingers through to flatten and shape it, spreading the curls across her shoulders. Her heart was beating fast— from excitement or anxiety? She wasn’t sure, but in just a few seconds she’d already changed clothes and it was too late to back out now.

“Miran?” Her husband turned to look at her as she stepped out of the bathroom.

His eyes widened. She swallowed hard at the unmitigated desire on his face. _God help me._

She was wearing green lace, and only green lace.

…

“Miran?” At the sound of his wife’s decisive voice, Miran turned from his phone to look at her and almost choked. _Holy shit._

Standing right in front of Miran, a vision from the heavens themselves, Reyyan was wearing green lace, and only green lace.

Her long tanned legs were on display, the nightie stopping right at the top of her thigh and hinting at matching panties. It was opaque, but just see-through enough that Miran thought he was going to die as he caught a glimpse of her belly button. Thin green straps held up the whole affair precariously on her shoulders.

If Miran hadn’t been fantasizing about this exact sight since Istanbul, his heart would have simply stopped. _She’s actually wearing it_. _Holy shit_. In his wildest most incredible dreams Miran could not have imagined his weekend going like this. He slowly felt himself getting progressively more suffocated by his trousers.

Her fingers flexed and clenched nervously at her sides. There were desire and curiosity in her eyes, and a slight embarrassment as well. He wanted to move towards her, ravish her, but his mind was wiped completely blank by the sight.

_God help me._

…

He stared at her for a long moment, lips parted, until she started to feel the self-consciousness creep up on her again. She hadn’t thought this through enough.

Reyyan averted her eyes, cheeks burning. _Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he didn’t actually want—_ She opened her mouth to apologize, or excuse herself, or something… but Miran made a soft strangled groan at the back of his throat that stopped her in her tracks and sent heat running up her core. Flushing, she realized that his silence was borne of inability to speak, not a lack of words. He stretched a hand out to her; a needy invitation.

Wanting to feel him she moved to sit next to him on the bed. Before she could even reach the mattress he quickly maneuvered her hips with both hands so that she landed on his lap instead with a surprised squeak. Both of her legs were flung on one side and instinctively she held his shoulders so she could see her face.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he peppered kisses onto her shoulders, eyelids, cheeks, ears. “You’re going to be the end of me, you know that?” His voice was rough. She felt the evidence of his arousal against her hip and bottom. She tried to keep her resolve in check but every touch of her skin on his, every shift of her body sent flames through her entire body.

…

Seeing Reyyan take control was… ooff. Miran had no words. As she nestled in his lap, though, her legs trembled and teeth bit her upper lip. She was about to melt in his hands _before they had even done anything_ and he struggled to keep his composure. He wanted her to be comfortable.

He grasped the edge of the nightie. “May I?” He looked up at her and she didn’t need to think twice before nodding, raising her arms above her head to help him out. The green lace almost ripped with the force of his hands pulling it off of her.

As it did every time he saw her, his breath left him, and he just focused on running his fingers over her for a moment, ignoring how painfully he needed her.

…

Though she felt every ounce of love through his hands, it began to bother Reyyan that she was almost entirely exposed and he completely dressed.

“Can you…” Her voice caught in her throat as she gestured generally, raising her hips. She may be more comfortable, but there were things she still had to get used to. He got the hint though and quickly shed his pants while she unbuttoned his shirt with shaking fingers. They were both left in their underwear, and she shifted one leg over his lap so that she straddled him, chest to chest, lips meeting needily.

He pushed against her, and the friction between them became almost unbearable. Breaking their kiss for the first time, she looked at him as if in a trance, and didn’t have to say a word. He understood everything from her eyes, pulling down his briefs and finally releasing himself.

For the first time, Reyyan got a good look at him. It had been dark on their fake wedding night and last night she had been too nervous to really pay much attention. She swallowed hard, unsure of what to do.

Luckily, Miran noticed and stilled. “Shall I?” He asked. Grateful that he understood, she nodded shyly. He grabbed her hand and helped her position them both. _(Later he would inform her that he nearly died from the sensation)_.

Slowly, achingly, she lowered herself down on him until the bottoms of her thighs were on his lap again. They both were breathing heavily, his grasp on her hips bruising. He lowered his head onto her shoulder with his eyes closed, unable to contain himself and lost in the feeling, but waiting for her to be ready.

It took a few moments for her to adjust, and then she began to move. Her pace was leisurely at first, but as their thrill grew she threw her head back and her pace increased. Unable to keep still, Miran drove his hips up to meet her. Other than that, he followed her pace, eyes on the way her mouth dropped open and her whimpers became louder. He was distinctly aware of his own noises but couldn’t control them.

They fit together perfectly.

Wanting to feel more, Reyyan experimentally ground her hips into his and felt his reaction immediately as he tightened his fingers on her hair and pressed closer to her suddenly, exploding into flames. The sensation brought her to her finish as well, and as it washed over her she crumpled into his steady, heaving chest.

He was mumbling something she couldn’t make out but laid a kiss onto the crown of her head as she ghosted her lips on to his shoulder. Neither had the energy to move for a few wonderful minutes.

…

As their heads began to clear, Miran extricated himself from her and helped her flop down beside him. Refusing to break skin contact for even a second, he settled her head onto his outstretched arm. Neither could speak. There was nothing for them to say.

He was still trying to catch his breath when he caught a glimpse of her face and decided they weren’t quite done yet— the night was still young, and he was still greedy for her. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is much appreciated:) Hope everyone is safe and happy during this time.

It didn’t take long for Reyyan to realize she was right to worry earlier about the beast she had unleashed.

This time Miran didn’t let her rest. Before even ten minutes had passed after she had climbed off of him he was nibbling at her shoulder again, running his rough hands around and underneath her body to completely envelop her. He was a man possessed, and Reyyan his willing partner.

Still feeling her heart hammering from the last time, Reyyan could feel her lips bruising but she responded in equal force, overtaken by the feeling of his chest on hers, his muscles completely surrounding her, attacking her, worshipping her. She knew that this time he was taking control, that this was something more primal, something they both needed. Something about this thrilled her; she was putty in his hands.

All thoughts or doubts or brain cells disappeared completely when Miran entered all at once, and she gasped his name as he bottomed out even though she knew it was coming. This time, he proceeded at a heavenly, punishing pace, laying her down horizontally against the sheets. Every thrust jolted her entire body a little bit further across the bed until her head and shoulders were basically hanging off the other side. The new angle hit her differently, and she could barely breathe from the sensation.

Reyyan pushed her legs further around his waist, wanting to be even closer to him. She rolled her hips in response to his. Her nails scraped harshly into his back as she felt a now familiar pressure building in her lower stomach. From the look on his face, Miran was just as lost in the feeling as she was— his eyes were closed and his brow furrowed.

“Miran!” She hadn’t meant to speak out loud but it seemed to affect him greatly.

Miran inhaled sharply into her neck as his hands tightened on her. He groaned, latching kisses between her breasts, raking his teeth across her collarbone, at her ear. She felt every muscle his defined abdomen against hers.

Her husband was absolutely perfect. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed the spot between his neck and shoulders, pulling at his hair slightly because by god he’s not the only one who gets to do things like that. In the back of her head, she fuzzily promised herself that she would slowly get to know every single one of his spots too.

He shifted his hips slightly in between movements and used his two large hands to lift her hips, arching her back. This was too much for Reyyan, and she grabbed onto him, digging her fingernails into his skin. She imploded without warning, pulling him as close as she could. He followed her only seconds later, with an unintelligible shout and a hot kiss pressed devotedly into her neck.

He slid off to lay near her. They stayed that way for a few long minutes, side by side. Reyyan’s breath was labored, slightly bashful about the response she had given him, about what they had done, about her absolute enjoyment. Uncontrollable trembling shook her body, but she wasn’t cold.

Cheeks burning, she pushed her face into his chest, squishing her nose a little. Her eyelashes became tangled in his smattering of soft hair.

She was boneless, turned to jelly, her physical form evaporated and floating delicately into the darkening sky. If you asked her what her name was, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to answer.

…

Miran came off the high of his release with an idiot’s grin still plastered on his face. As he tried to control himself, he looked down to check on Reyyan.

Her pupils were still blown, and she was breathing as heavily as him through her mouth. Her chest rose and fell quickly, as she laid splayed on her back, staring at nothing. One hand clutched onto his arm absentmindedly, her thumb rubbing lazy circles over his veins. The fact that her slim fingers could barely circle his wrist the whole way made him even more ravenous for her.

Miran knew when it came to her he was insatiable, but the protective part of him told him to hold off. He could tell that Reyyan was tired, sated, and completely overwhelmed. He was pleased to see a sweet, satisfied smile on her lips. _You got what you wanted tonight, didn’t you Reyyan Hanim?_

He couldn’t help but think that she was really the one with the control today ( _and every day_ )— but it worked out in his favor so much he couldn’t even dwell on how little power he had when it came to her. Instead, he focused on the pressure of her body on his, on how her heartbeat slowed, on her swollen lips and her fluttering eyes.

“Sen çok seviyorum, Miranim.” She murmured, so softly he almost missed it. _My Miran_ , she said. HHe almost laughed at how right she was. If there is one thing that was true about Miran Aslanbey, it was that he belonged only to her.

“Sen çok seviyorum, güneşim.”

Despite everything, there was a profound innocence in the way sleepiness filled her eyes, in the way she glanced at him with hearts in her eyes. Miran knew he didn’t deserve any bit of her, but he knew that he would move mountains to protect her, to make sure she was with him, to make sure that this smile would never leave her face.

It hit Miran suddenly that he didn’t even know what time it was, and that he didn’t care. Whatever they were supposed to be doing was completely unimportant. He just wanted to hold her, to be held by her, for as long as possible.

He knew he was being selfish, but he stubbornly refused to let go of her for a second, even to get dressed. Instead, he dragged her underneath the covers with him and flung an extra blanket on top of them both so she wouldn’t get cold. Reyyan teased him knowingly but didn’t complain, clearly understanding that it would be useless, and persuaded by her own sleepiness. She dragged her fingertips slowly across his chest and abs before turning and pulling him against her so that they were spooning, impossibly close.

He realized then just how tired he was. The tensions of so many months just melted away with her in his arms and a deep, lovely heaviness settled on him. They fell asleep tangled in each other and absolutely peaceful.

**…**

This time, when they woke up eye to eye, not knowing where their bodies ended or began or how long they had slept, Reyyan didn’t need to tell him not to leave.

Her fingers reached up to stroke Miran’s hair as he stared at her, his eyes soft and eyelashes trembling a little. They told each other about little happinesses, about good childhood memories and anecdotes. They spoke about the future, about plans and dreams they’d never had the chance to share before.

As she lay sheltered by his muscles, it occurred to her that it had been a long time since she’d checked her phone since promising her mother she’d call. She sat up slowly, extricating herself from Miran’s grasp with a giggle even as he reached out to try to keep her in place.

“I’ll be right back, there’s no need for the separation anxiety.” She joked.

“You’re wrong, karicim.” Miran stretched his arms out above his head. “Even a second away from you is unbearable.”

Reyyan beamed. As she swung her legs off the bed, however, she wasn’t expecting her body to protest the movement. A slight ache was left over from… the intimacies she wasn’t quite used to yet. She paused and hissed in discomfort. It must have been more audible than she intended because within moments Miran was up on his knees and tugged at her shoulder, turning her towards him so that he could examine her up and down. His forehead was crinkled adorably in concern, eyes searching hers, lips in a worried pout.

“Ne oldu, Reyyan?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” She tickled her fingers over his beard, but his eyes didn’t leave her face and she relented, feeling hot with shyness all of a sudden. “I’m just a little sore.” The timid tone of her voice left no question as to what kind of soreness she was referring to.

His eyes widened. He hadn’t even thought about that. He was about to apologize when she cut in.

“It’s okay!” She rushed to reassure him, knowing him too well. “Ben iyiyim, Miran. I’m fine. I’m _more_ than fine.”

Getting used to the sensation, she slid gingerly off the bed, moved to grab a washcloth and her phone and then carefully slid back next to him.

Her cheeks were red. Miran was conflicted.

A cold rush of guilt had run over him at her confession that she was some pain, even as negligible as she made it seem. Did he push her too much? In all his desire he had pretty much forgotten how new this all was to her, how tiny she was, how delicate.

But a remorseful, perverse sort of pleasure came along with it. She felt that way because of him. Besides the fact that she had clearly enjoyed it if the marks on his back and his own swollen lips were any indications. He thought about her face next to his, about the lace and her hands in his hair. Yes, she had given it as good as she got it.

“Are you still alive?” She teased him, noting his silence.

“Barely,” he grinned back. “But if I wasn’t, I would have died so, so happy.” Her dimples flashed at him. She gave his hand on her shoulder the sweetest kiss he could ever imagine. His heart was full to bursting.

She was his—and by god was he hers.

Miran’s thoughts were interrupted when her stomach complained. Loudly. He was pleased.

“I think it’s time to feed my wife!” He announced loudly and clapped his hands together.

Reyyan sat up and gazed at him. “I can go down and grab us something,” she offered enthusiastically. “What do you want, Miranim?” The name was natural, it fit. He did his best to ignore how being claimed by her shot electric currents into his groin.

“Olmaz!” He protested and pulled her back down into his chest tightly but tenderly. “Will I let my sore wife leave our bed to run errands? And when she’s looking so mouthwatering? Never.”

He ordered an obscene amount of room service. They sat in bed and barely finished any of it. They were closer than they had ever been. It was the first day of the rest of their lives together like every day would be.

The green nightie lay abandoned in the corner of the room.

…

_Just four weeks later Reyyan starts to feel unfamiliar tendrils of nausea and lightheadedness creep up on her._

_She nervously plays at willful ignorance for a few days until she can’t take it anymore, calculating the days and weeks in her head. Only then does she remember the green lace, heart racing from the memory, and its implications._

_After she confirms it for herself, she’s shocked to note that she feels no fear or anxiety, just pure excitement, and love. She tries to hide it from Miran, wanting to surprise him. But every moment that she’s alone she lays her hand on her lower abdomen, caressing it in awe._

_Miran’s grandmother is the first person she tells. When it feels like she’ll burst from holding in the information, she pretends to go see her mother but instead visits Anneanne at the village to pick up the rocking crib from Miran’s infancy. They both cry together, and Reyyan runs her fingers over his name etched expertly into the wood._

_“It has always belonged to him,” Anneanne tells her tearfully. “But now it belongs to him as a father, not as a son.”_

_Reyyan brings it up to her and Miran’s room in the cover of night when he’s dealing with business and swears the guards to secrecy (they congratulate her endlessly and she blushes). She’ll kill before she lets any Aslanbey ruin this for them._

_When her husband comes in late, she’s awake, waiting for him patiently. He stops in his tracks. “Reyyan?” She says nothing, just smiles at him._

_As he takes in the crib, and the tears on her lashes, it takes Miran only a moment to piece it together in his head._

_Once it does, however, his eyes instantly fill first with water and then with unmitigated joy as he lunges at her, picks her up and spins her around, face buried in her hair. Realizing himself, he sets her down so gently she barely feels the floor._

_“Gerçekten mi?” He almost yells, cradling her cheeks in between his palms. “Really? Are you sure Reyyan?” Before she can answer in the affirmative he settles to his knees, lining his face up with her stomach, kissing it through the fabric of her dress._

_She laughs at his childish joy, feeling it fill her up too. She loved him— in all her life she never knew she could love someone so much. She suspected that she would feel the same way nine months from then. Their future never looked so beautiful._

_Whoever packed that bag sure knew what they were doing._


End file.
